The forest stands tall and lush here; ancient trees reach weather-twisted arms to the sky, fighting monster-like storm clouds back with their interlacing fingers. Shadow seems to lurk everywhere you look, but it spills calmly, coolly, inspiring a sense of stealthy calm or protection rather than unease. That is, if you've forgotten what kind of creature might be stalking just out of sight...Abendrot is a land cradled by the dark woods on all sides; in the center, some of the larger trees stay behind to reveal a small plateau - a citadel where this pack can gather and defend itself from invaders. There are, of course, softer sides to the land. Clearings here and there allow the sun to throw down its rays in incongruously resplendent gold showers. Ignore the lingering scents of blood spattered here and there along the borders: those do not concern you. The river on one edge of the territory is playful enough when it hasn't been gorged by violent rain. You can choose to note the ragged claw marks raked down tree trunks and the forest floor as friendly "Home Sweet Home" signs, if you wish.

All who treasure loyalty, order, victory, and the occasional indulgence of raw visceral pleasure are welcome, once they've been approved by the ever-watchful eyes of Abendrot's Alpha. But keep one thing in mind: no matter what your motive, this is not a fool's Paradise. This is the land of soldiers, assassins, and spies. This is ABENDROT.

Make up your mind quickly and prepare to prove your worth. You wouldn't want to add to those blood spatters, would you...?

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It was a cool night and he pulled his cloak tighter before her sset of on a lope along the eastern border. Patrols had turned up very little as of late, but considering they were being challenged yet again - Marx was okay with things being a bit dull for once. He considered a pack hunt, but did not want to risk emptying the pack lands of its soldier force before a new royal might show up to take his throne. This being said, he did not expect his alphas to lose, but in a challenge- anything could happen. Revolution was possible against this foreign white bastard and Marx knew his soldiers would follow his orders over an imposter any day. It was why he trained them, nurtured them, beat them, disciplined them- he didn’t just want obedience, he wanted loyalty. Loyalty was a currency that was immeasurable in value, the pack was nothing without it, but a loyal wolf standing alone was also a useless figure, alone in the dark. A noise drifted to his bells, matched by a familiar perfume.

The noise was foreign and his hackles might have spiked if he did not smell it was clearly the new recruit- Hestia. His path curved inwards- towards the deepest, wildest parts of Abendrot and quickened. Paws laid down his tracks, not gouging the earth, but rather disturbing as little as possible. The noise drifted to him again- louder. It was a tune…a melody, not of this world. A single brow arched itself in question and he slowed, catching glimpses of the she wolf as he paraded a hunter’s stalk. The commander had no wish to sneak up on the ess, but he preferred to never waste an opportunity to test their senses. He cleared a log in front of him and landed gracefully- no doubt attracting some sort of attention from her. Hestia was studying the moon and actually smiling quietly to herself. Marx padded slowly up to her and sat next to her, also observing the white glow in the night sky.

Beautiful.



M A R X
High Commander of the Abendrot Soldiers


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